


Washing Machine Porn

by akaya



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, PWP, sex baby, washing machines like to vibrate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaya/pseuds/akaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“It's not what it looks like,” Charles says quickly, cheeks flushing at the look Erik is giving him. It's not like Charles can blame him for it. After all, he is aware of how ridiculous his current predicament is, but Erik just stares at him in this completely unnerving manner - - as if Charles was a rare specimen of a butterfly for him to examine.  </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Washing Machine Porn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [thi](http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/4418.html?thread=6687042#t6687042)s prompt _"Imagine one of those washing machines of the sixties, which are extremely noisy and vibrating more than a dildo.  
>  Charles sitting on it and Erik having his wicked way with him. + bonus point if the added stimulation makes Charles lose control as he comes."_ on the kink meme. I own nothing, except for my own writing and the only thing I gain is my personal satisfaction. Self beta, so let me know if I missed something.

“It's not what it looks like,” Charles says quickly, cheeks flushing at the look Erik is giving him. It's not like Charles can blame him for it. After all, he is aware of how ridiculous his current predicament is, but Erik just stares at him in this completely unnerving manner - - as if Charles was a rare specimen of a butterfly for him to examine.

“Erik?” He tries again, and his breath hitches in surprise when the washing machine, he's currently sitting on, jumps again causing a shiver to travel up his spine. Erik's fingers twitch at this and a lazy, predatory grin crawls onto his face.

“Charles,” he says, and his voice is a rich timbre in the other's ears. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No!” Charles gasps and flushes harder, cursing his genes for this. “It's just -” he stops, for once finding himself at a loss of words. Erik does that to him sometimes, for all his eloquence, the presence of the other man in his life made him act somehow foolish, if not plainly daft.

“Just what, Charles?” Erik chuckles and walks closer, his moves are easy and fluid, seemingly careless, but Charles knows better. He's been observing the metal bender quite a lot, and he knows how he is when he _hunts_. “Because it looks like you're, _ah_ , quite enjoying yourself.”

“Erik,” Charles moans, and immediately regrets it, sensing the shift in the atmosphere around them and sees his friend's eyes darken. “It was jumping all over the place, so I had to -” he stops at yet another vibrating move under him and grips the metal edges harder, telling himself he needs to hold on. “Ground it, so it wouldn't move that much.”

“Ground it,” Erik repeats and closes the distance between them, his lips brushing against Charles' softly, in a caress, not a kiss. “And when did you decide to -” he cuts off, one of his hands reaching between Charles' legs, palming the growing erection there. “Get hard on it?” He huffs a small laugh and captures the other's moan with his lips, coaxing Charles' tongue into his own mouth, tasting and teasing him, feeling the vibrations carrying through both of their bodies now.

“I wasn't planning on it,” Charles huffs, mock offended, but he pulls Erik more into him, fingers twisting in the cloth of the bloody turtleneck - that Erik is so fond of for some an unknown reason.

“Ah,” Erik grins, his eyes intent on Charles', his free hand moving to this face, tracing the red lips and then going up, tangling in the slightly unruly curls, feeling the softness not damaged by any of the hair product he uses to keep them out of his eyes. “But you do enjoy yourself, do you not?”

“You can be quite annoying when you're trying to be smug,” Charles retorts and makes a sound in the back of his throat, almost like a mewl and Erik groans at this, pushing their hips together and pulling slightly at Charles' hair.

“Do they teach you the unconventional use of home appliances at Oxford?” He asks, in-between the bites, his hot breath coming in short pants against Charles' skin.

“I'm not the one using cutlery to pin our students to a kitchen wall,” Charles grins sloppily, and Erik's heart surges at this. Having this man in front of him, shameless and unabashed – allowing Erik to see him like this, not the proper adult he always tries to pose for – makes him almost happy.

 _There is so much more to you, my friend_ , Charles' voice echoes in his mind and Erik scrunches his brows, pulling away a bit.

“I thought you said you won't read my mind,” he chides, but cant' bring himself to be angry with the Englishman.

“You were projecting,” Charles answers him easily moving both of his arms to circle around Erik's narrow waist, pulling him back. “Don't think, just enjoy,” he says and pushes the damned turtleneck up to touch Erik's skin.

Erik grins unabashedly at this, quick to hide his expression in Charles' neck, but the other can feel his teeth pressing to the sensitive skin there, biting gently, but not breaking the skin. Charles moans at the thought that Erik would mark him if he only asked, but it's to risky to do so in a place everybody could see, after all he's not exactly the type to cover his neck even in autumn.

“So, can I go lower then?” Erik's warm breath hits the wet patch of skin he just licked, and Charles feels his hair standing up all over his body, as if hit with the sudden electrical current.

“Yes,” he hisses, his fingers pushing against Erik's neck, feeling the warmth and power thrumming underneath his skin.

Yes, he purrs mentally, and basks in both, the attention Erik is giving him and the uneven thrum of the washing machine under his butt-cheeks, causing delicious shivers that he now shares with his friend.

Erik laughs as the first rinse cycle starts, making Charles visibly jump as if he was only a puppet doll without any strings, but stops when he feels the other's erection visibly twitch in his pants.

“I had never thought,” he huffs out a breath and grips Charles' hips in an almost iron grip. “I'd have to compete with a washing machine.”

 _Don't be ridiculous_ , Charles says inside his mind and when Erik looks back up at his face, he thanks for whatever self-control he has, because the other man looks positively debauched. His lips and cheeks are redder than the rest of his face, blue eyes blown and if Erik didn't know better, he'd have some serious suspicions that Charles already had his share of fun when he wasn't looking.

 _The things I want to do to you_ , Erik thinks right back at him, eyes roaming over the other's body, knowing it shape by heart, feeling the taste of the skin covering muscles – that people are so unaware of, and he likes it that way. He's greedy. _Charles is his_.

 _Oh, no my friend_ , Charles' voice in his head is more intent now, amused. _You're mine, just as I am yours, Erik._

Erik visibly gulps at this, and there is heat curling in his abdomen. He should move away, push Charles away actually. The thought of being owned by someone, anyone is terrifying, bringing back all those unwanted, nasty memories, but when he opens his eyes – he hasn't even noticed he had closed – he sees Charles' flushed, loving face and an uncontrollable urge to melt into this man, to be one with him overtakes him.

“Yours,” he whispers harshly and moves to kiss Charles' temple, his eyelids, nose and taste those wonderful, talented lips of his.

 _Mine_ , Charles nods and leans more into the caress, uttering a chocked up noise against Erik's thinner lips. “I won't last long,” he says and his voice sounds raspy, unused for ages even though both of them knows it's impossible.

“Didn't take you for the one to be so impatient,” Erik chuckles lowly against Charles' lips, biting and sucking his upper lip. His palms rubbing and kneading the other's well formed butt-cheeks, loving how well they fit into his palms - - _and now there is an image of him and Charles, shagging like two horny teenagers in the back of Darwin's taxi?!_

“Bugger,” Charles murmurs, scrunching his brow in concentration, “Sorry.” And just like that the fantasy is cut, disappearing from his head; but Erik can still feel the lingering touch of Charles' mind to his -

 _And Erik wants more_.

“Don't,” he gasps and snaps his fingers, unfastening Charles' trousers reaching inside, rubbing the sole of his palm against it, feeling it warm and alive to his touch. “I like it when you can't control yourself,” he grins, and licks his suddenly dry lips, watching the gorgeous man splayed in front of him.

“It could be dangerous, Erik,” Charles' voice is chiding, but he cants his hips upwards, pushing into Erik's hand, the vibrations under him now regular, slower, but still very much there.

“I could tell you,” Erik sighs and with his free hand touches Charles' cheek. “Mógłbym powiedzieć co tylko chcesz,” he adds in Polish and his breath stops when Charles flushes harder.

“Then tell me,” _tell me_ , Charles urges in his mind. _Make me come_.

 _Like that?_

“No,” Charles growls lowly. “I want to hear it, not only in my head.”

“Ok,” Erik leans down and kisses him again. “Ok, I will tell you,” he repeats and steps away. It's hard, moving away from this warm, welcoming body. Charles makes a noise of objection in his throat, but Erik takes a deep, steadying breath and takes one more step. _Like that_ , he sends Charles in a reassurance. _Without touching_.

 _You just want a show_ , Charles retorts and laughs cheekily, up for the game. He's very close, and knows better than anyone that words can be very powerful if used properly. And there is also the vibrating washing machine that is almost done with their laundry. He barely contains the snort, and is glad Erik doesn't hear all of his thoughts.

“Może i tak,” Erik answers him, bright, intelligent eyes boring into his face as this gorgeous, skilled tongue curls around the letters of the words Charles knows no meaning off. They sound harder, harsher than English, but the Brit knows that their meaning is different, warmer, more intimate. “Piękny, tak piękny.”

 _Beautiful_ , sounds in Charles mind and he closes his eyes, tipping his head back a bit, giving the other a proper view of a long neck.

“Is that what it means?” He asks and looks at Erik lazily.

“Yes, you're beautiful.”

“I'd expect handsome, dashing maybe,” Charles grumbles, his muscles twitching, partially from arousal, partially from the bashful feeling of being fully on display. “But beautiful, really Erik?.”

“You're gorgeous,” for me. “All that power, hidden just underneath. You have no idea...”

 _Że mógłbym Cię pokochać._

“What?” I didn't quite catch that. What does it mean?”

“Nothing important,” Erik sighs and grabs at his own crotch, giving himself a slight squeeze. Foolish, romantic thoughts aside. He wants nothing more than to stake a claim on Charles, push him down and make him scream. “I want to make you scream,” he breaths, his voice getting lower, more intent on the man in front of him. It's not the time or place for having this kind of conversation. Perhaps it will never be. Erik can't be sure.

“It would be unwise, with the kids in the house,” Charles, the ever-loving-parent, answers him, but the lewd expression on his face says what words doesn't and Erik feels the rest of his blood rush south and the remaining grey cells die from suffocation.

“I want to make you scream,” he repeats, harsher this time and by pure strength of mind, a point between rage and serenity, stops touching himself, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. “I want to kneel in front of you, and swallow your cock. If you're nice, I might even swallow when you come,” he says, his own breath growing heavier. “But it wouldn't be that fast, you wouldn't want that Charles, would you?”

 _No_ , Charles gasps mentally. _More!_

Erik shakes his head and raises one of his elegant eyebrows. _Can't hear you Charles._

“No, I wouldn't want that,” Charles glares at him, his accent thicker now, overflowing with arousal, and Erik chokes on a growl, deep in his chest, his body resisting his mind, wanting to move forward, to flatten himself again the other.

“And I wouldn't let you come, not at first. I'd kiss your tights, mark them with my teeth, suck bruises that you would feel whenever the cloth of your trousers touched them.”

“Erik!” Charles voice sounds urgent now, one of his own hands pushed into his underwear, tugging at his erection without any kind of rhythm, desperate for any kind of friction. “O-Oh, God, tell me more,” _tell me, tell me, tell me!_

“You like that, like claiming you. All proper gentleman, rubbish flirt,” Erik spits out the words, but there is no venom in them. “All those pretty girls you flirt with, they'd have no idea that at the end of the day you'd have me on my knees,” Erik stopped, to swallow, his throat painfully tight and dry. “That by the end of the day, you'd have me, fucking my mouth with your uncut cock.”

“I need, need, Erik-” Charles pants, his breath almost as loud as the whirling from the washing machine, only helping pushing him closer to his orgasm.

“No one, Charles. No one could satisfy you, like I do. Be it on my knees, or fucking you hard against your desk, with Raven and Moira,” he snarls the last name. “Naive, foolish Moira, wouldn't you want to show her, how hard I make you take it? How hard you like to give it right back?”

“Don't want, don't want -”

“Don't want what, Charles?”

“Don't want Moira, want you, you, fucking hell - ” Charles curses and Erik sees his hips twitching, the movement delicious to his eyes. Charles is always beautiful, but there is something almost unearthly to him when he comes and there is this rush of emotions that he knows aren't completely his and he's coming, without even touching himself, his cock spurting in his pants. It's sticky and a more than a bit uncomfortable, but at the moment he could've care less.

 _It's enough, enough Erik_ , Charles' voice is loud and clear in his head, _Come here!_ And if Erik had any brains left, he'd stop to wonder how much of an order it was, but now, Charles is opening his arms, reaching for him, needing him, wanting him.

Other things can wait.

 

 **END**

 _Translations:_

 _Może i tak - May be so  
Piękny, tak piękny - beautiful, so beautiful  
Że mógłbym Cię pokochać - That I could love you_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Critics & Kudos always welcomed


End file.
